Happy Valentines Day Dominaria
by Jose Philipe Mendola
Summary: Valentines day has come to Dominaria. Love it, hate it, it's a holiday anyway. This gets a little sour, but enjoy anyway. Covering your favorite personalities. Nemetta to the Weatherlight crew and everyone in between. Enjoy. R


Happy Valentines Day Dominaria

Jose Philipe Mendola

Authors Note: That's' RIGHT, I'm BACK! This seems to be the ONLY holiday that I have not attacked yet. In my opinion (which is RIGHT), this is by far the WORST 'holiday' we celebrate. Don't forget kids, be the consumer WHORE Corporate America wants you to be this time of year and Buy! Buy! Buy! The more you spend the more likely a chance of you getting LAID will jump by .3 every $150 you spend on someone. 'Happy Valentines Day, Jose!'? Fuck you. I'm getting drunk and hoping I don't end up paying for sex.

Legal Note: I do not own any of the characters in this Fic. They are property of Wizards of the Coast and NO permission has been expressed in ANY form that would allow me to use them. On another interesting note, all personalities and character traits in this fic (now referred to as 'Intellectual Property') are NOT mine, but those created by a one S. Murphy. I'd LIKE to thank him, but I think he might be dead to the world. One more additional Note, I'm constantly asked if I have ever known love. My response: 'No. No I have not.'

Fair Warning: Already seeing this, this IS going to get a LOT salty… However, having done NOTHING that can be classified as a lemon since Sophomore Year; it's probably going be kind of weak. (Anyone remember that ONE I came under fire for? I think it was 'Serena Teaches Rini'. That one rubbed a LOT people the wrong way) I'll mail a check to anyone that has a COPY of that readily available, as it was stored on a floppy disk that I lost a LONG time ago.

'Mail call!' Hannah's voice came over the ships intercom. 'Come and get it.'

Gerrard rolled to his side in his bunk. The crew had known that he had not been feeling too well for the past week.

For his absence, Hannah had taken temporary command of the Weatherlight. This was nothing different, as Gerrard could not help that his DESTINY was willed to Barrins' DAUGHTER.

Feeling suddenly queasy, Gerrard got up and exited his cabin, hoping to reach the head.

One could tell when Hannah was in command, as the ship always looked clean. Not that Gerrard let things fall to pieces, dusting, polishing and sweeping was just not high on the duty roster.

Gerrard staggered past a few more doors to the rest of the ships quarters, almost to the head.

The ship shook violently. Gerrard grabbed at the walls for stability.

Righting himself, the last of the sounds of things falling and breaking in the quarters quieted.

Two more doors later, Gerrard reached the door he was walking for. Reaching for the doorknob, he found it locked.

'Sonofa-' He grumbled. HE leaned his back against the wall, almost sliding to the floor as the ship shook again. 'I should probably get that looked at.' Gerrard said to himself.

The head unlocked. Gerrard turned to face the door.

The door opened and closed, nothing at eyelevel came out.

Gerrard hesitated to look down, hoping NOT to find-

'Wow, dat was bad.' Squee said to himself. HE crashed into Gerrards' leg and looked up at him. 'Oh, hey boss. Feelin' better are ya?'

'Not really.' Gerrard replied.

'Sorry ta hear dat.' Squee replied as he shook his head 'Oh! And sorry bout' DAT!' He jerked a thumb over his bony shoulder 'guess dat's whatcha' git when you feed goblins all dose' RICH foods.'

Gerrard closed his eyes, hoping this was all a bad dream.

'I'll live.' He said.

'Doubtful,' Squee started, sounding AND looking pleased with himself 'Dat WAS pretty bad.'

'Please,' Gerrard said as he pointed down the hall 'Go about your duties.'

'Right.' Squee said as he began to walk off.'

'Hey!' Gerrard called after him. Squee turned around to face the Captain ''Am I NOT the captain of this ship? How about a few STANDARD customs and courtesies?'

Squee twitched out of embarrassment and threw his right hand up to his forehead.

Gerrard returned the salute and sighed 'Go.'

The goblin left and the ship shook again.'

Gerrard's stomach did not agree with the movement.

He entered the head, closed the door and proceeded to expel all of the fluids Orim had instructed him to keep up with.

Another announcement had been made while Gerrard was being sick. Not sure what it was, Gerrard decided it a good idea to head to the bridge, despite having been put on quarters by the ship's medic, Orim.

Gerrard was about o leave the head when he remembered why being the captain of the Weatherlight could be a frequent challenge.

On the door that led back tot eh hall of the ship, one could find every piece of fabricated (or otherwise) information in Dominaria:

'Rogues Do It From Behind'

'Yawgmoth smells like Kavu dick'

'I took it in the butt at Koilis'

And many more things, was a new 'addition'.

Between 'For a good Time, Call Mirri' in black pen and 'Jose was here!' in red ink, a 2 week old carving now had a reply. First carved in the door two weeks ago, 'Goblins are the suck!', was now an answered with a crudely drawn goblin holding a sign, 'EET MOR DIK', in very hard to remove black sharpie.

Again, the ship shook violently. In the confined space of the head, Gerrard was able to keep himself upright between the walls. Exiting, he made his way down the hall.

'Last call for mail.' Hannah said again, this time sounding more urgent 'Hey! What the-?' The microphone sounded as if it were forced away from her.

Thangarth now came over the speakers, sounding NONE too happy.

'Topside, NOW, or the mail goes over the edge.'

Orim had exited her room just as Gerrard was staggering by. He still looked far from well. Though well educated in the healing of Cho'Arrim, Orim had not seen a sickness of this reported ferocity before.

It seemed to be a mix of both an allergic reaction to something, coupled with a very serious flu virus.

Gerrard had walked by just in time.

'I just finished mixing this up for you,' Orim had told him 'with any luck; this will do more for you than the last few did.'

She held up a vial of liquid.

'Luck?' Gerrard had demanded 'Is that what alchemy's all about now? LUCK?'

Orim had smiled her response.

'Let's just hope you don't turn into a Chubtoad first.'

'Do Chubtoads GET sick?' Gerrard asked. He took the vial of still bubbling green liquid and held it under his nose. Smelling it, he quickly jerked it away. 'Are you SURE?'

Orim only shrugged and smiled.

'Two of the main mixing agents ARE goblin sweat and Troll mojo.' Orim admitted.

Gerrard then, against his better judgment, cocked his arm back and took the shot of foul smelling liquid.

Orim caught him by the shoulders as the ship shook again.

'What keeps doing that?' she asked.

Hannah was the first to see Gerrard on the deck. Orim was right behind him, looking a little concerned.

Something that MIGHT have been jealousy MIGHT have poked her in the gut.

'You look HORRIBLE.' Hannah said.

Gerrard blinked at her, seemingly unable to focus.

He might have groaned a reply.

'What did you give him?' Hannah asked.

'A new mixture.' Orim replied 'I was kind of hoping that it would help.'

'Gerrard,' Hannah said 'how do you feel?'

'Soapy,' Gerrard started 'Papoose.'

'What?' Hannah demanded.

'Side affects:' Orim began reading from a small paper she pulled out of a pocket ''Dementia-'

'You don't say.' Hannah said.

'Vertigo-'

Gerrard fell to his knees and began breathing heavy.

'Check' Hannah reported.

'Profuse sweating-'

Hannah looked Gerrard over.

'Nothing yet.

'A-a-a-and-' Orim started 'Possible sexual side affects.'

Hannah seemed to take interest in this one.

'The BAD kind.' Orim clarified.

Thangarth decided to make his appearance, just before conversations could turn strange. He climbed out of the hatch that led directly to the engine room. He had his scarred back to the deck, not yet seeing Hannah standing Gerrard up.

'So I found Karn.' The cow man reported. 'AND I figured out why the ship was shaking. You'd never guess what I found that metal bastard doing, OR why's he's always in the cramped basement of an engine room.' Thangarth turned around to see that Gerrard was on deck. 'Oh-' He said 'How are ya feeling, Captain?'

'I think,' Gerrard began 'When I get teeth in my mouth, it would be sound volume.'

Thangarth cocked an eyebrow and looked to the women for an answer.

'He's not feeling too well.' Orim said 'Bad reaction to the drugs.'

'Sitting in a dream at home' Gerrard began again 'and the Humpty Dumpty say 'Thumb Thumbs."

'Let's at LEAST get him his mail and send him back to quarters.' Hannah offered.

Thangarth went over to the broadcast tube and flipped it open.

'Sissay,' He said into it 'Bring the mail topside.'

A short time later, Sissay made it topside with two large bags of mail. It only took her a short time to notice that Gerrard was not feeling well.

'Donut hotdog soda pop.' Gerrard said to no one in particular.

After sorting the mail, Thangarth had handed it to the crew. In some cases, a few cards here and there. In Gerrards' case, a STACK of mail (all from the same address) and even a single letter was handed out to Squee.

'Who would send YOU a letter?' Thangarth teased the goblin.

'A FRIEND.' Came the reply. Squee stuck his tongue out at Thangarth.

'You had BETTER put that thing back in your head before I rip it OUT.' Thangarth growled.

Not one to challenge one much bigger than him, Squee let it go.

'Where'd the letter come from?' Sissay asked.

'Tanaris.' Squee said, possibly turning a shade red.

'Tanaris?' Hannah questioned 'you mean that place out in- Forget it.'

'So how about you, Gerard?' Thangarth asked 'Where did those come from?'

'Where do you THINK?' Hannah said in a very sharp tone.

'So what's IN them?' Thangarth asked, almost laughing.

'PROBABLY more Polaroid's'' Hannah answered, this tie with more hostility.

Gerrard was swaying on his feet.

'Maybe we should get you back to your cabin.' Orim said.

'It's good to see a spin in a spirit car.' Gerrard said to no one in particular.

'That's what I'M saying.' Sissay agreed, tired of dealing with her Drugged-up captain.

'It would be backbone to look better.' Gerrard agreed.

'Like the toenail in a shoestring.' Thangarth said, hoping to egg Gerrard on with more ramblings.

'Cut it out.' Hannah warned.

'Up de en ah da.' Gerrard nodded before a coughing fit.

'Blizzim.' Squee laughed.

'Squee!' Hannah shouted 'Leave him alone!'

'There it go, whack, whack, whack, whack.' Gerrard started, much to the delight of the cabin boy 'And you had your peaches too.'

'OK, Gerrard,' Orim said with concern 'I don't like this. You're going back to your quarters.'

'I'll take him.' Hannah said, grabbing his arm 'Just being his mail down later I suppose.'

Gerrard straightened a little.

Almost there.

'Right,' Orim said, dismissing the thought of cooking up any more potions.' Try and feel better, ok Captain?'

Gerrard laughed.

Hannah began to lead Gerrard to the hatch, when Thangarth stopped them.

'Hold it,' Thangarth rumbled.

'What?' Hannah demanded.

'What's your favorite color?' Thangarth asked, pointing at Gerrard.

'Thangarth, no-'

'Green.' Gerrard answered.

Not content, Thangarth tried again.

'What's your favorite color?'

Green green.' Came the reply.

Thangarth and Squee chuckled.

'What's your favorite color?' Thangarth asked for a third time.

'Moon.' Gerrard said right away.

Squee had a laughing fit. Thangarth laughed just as hard, but quickly regained his composure.

The letter that Squee had received was no longer closely guarded. Thangarth seized the opportunity and took it from the laughing goblin.

'Yoink.' Thangarth stated.

'Hey! No fair!' Squee cried 'Give it back!'

Yuka Screwspigot, Tanaris.' Thangarth read 'Sounds like a goblin name. A FEMALE goblin name.'

Hannah was surprised by how easily Gerrard had handles the stairs.

'Vertigo must come and go.' She reasoned.

Stranger still, Gerrard was quiet the entire trip to the corridor that led to the ships quarters.

Hannah opened to the door to Gerrards' cabin.

'I DO hope you feel better, Captain.' She said dejectedly 'Get some sleep.'

'Wait,' Gerrard said, stopping in the doorway and turning to face Hannah. 'Wait here for just a second. I have something for you.' He smiled.

Hannah failed to find any words. She only nodded. Gerrard turned and closed the door, after saying only

'Just one second.'

'What just happened here?' Hannah asked herself. Did she hear and see that right? It was like there was nothing at all wrong with Gerrard.

Gerrard was moving something around in his cabin.

'What in the world was going on?

'Gerrard?' Hannah called 'Are you ok in there?'

'Really,' came the reply, sounding as if he was right at the door 'I'll be RIGHT with you.'

Hannah was not sure if she liked this. She tried to open his door and found it locked.

'I said I'm fine.' Gerrard said 'Why won't you believe me?'

'Talk to me.' Hannah said, sounding a little concerned.

Gerrard's door opened the smallest amount, Gerrard making only a small portion of his face visible.

Hannah put both hands against the door and gently tried to force her way in. The door opened slightly more, but Gerrard had put his foot in front of it.

'I'm not done yet.' Gerrard sighed, smiling again. The sooner you leave me alone for ONE minute, the sooner I'll talk to you.'

Hannah took both hands off the door and dropped them by her side, defeated.

'Ok, you win.'

The door shut again.

It was a full two minutes until Hannah heard the door unbolt. Gerrard stood in the door under his own power. Gerrard held both of his hands behind his back.

'What's going on?' Hannah demanded 'Are you still not feeling well?'

Gerrard shook his head and smiled to himself.

'Just trust me.' Now pick a hand.'

'What?' Hannah was taken aback.

'One way or another, I've got something for you. Now pick a hand.'

'This is childish.' Hannah said, almost laughing with Gerrard.

'Maybe,' Gerrard agreed 'But humor me.'

'Left.' She said, trying not to let on that she found this oddly attractive in a weird kind of way.

'Good one,' Gerrard said.

'You're not going to make me close my eyes, are you?' Hannah laughed.

Gerrard shook his head and smiled.

'I think you'll be ok.'

Gerrard brought his right hand out from behind his back, brandishing a large collection of flowers at Hannah.

'Gerrard,' she said, finding words difficult 'they're beautiful. I've never seen them before. What are they?'

The flower reminded Hannah of a rose, but instead of being a bright red, it was a deep crimson. The leaves that grew off the bright green stem were different as well. They were almost star shaped.

'Mageroyal,' Gerrard said 'Found naturally only in the very backwoods of Yavamaia.'

'They're beautiful.' Hannah repeated. 'But I asked for the OTHER hand.' She finished, adding a sarcastic tone.

'Oh, I know.' Gerrard said 'But I wanted you to have those first. Here.'

Gerrard held a small box out to Hannah. It was close to the size of a hand compass, and just as round.

'Gerrard,' Hannah began, sounding very cautious.

'What?' He demanded 'Just open it.'

Hannah took the box from Gerrard. It was fairly heavy.

'So far, so good.' Hannah said to herself.

Gerrard was gone from eyelevel.

Hannah glanced around quickly.

He was close to the floor!

'Oh gods,' Hannah said to herself, beginning to breath rapidly. She could almost feel herself go pale.

Gerrard stood back up.

'Whoa,' He said 'did you even open it UP yet? Why are you six shades whiter?'

'What were you just-?' Hannah stammered.

Gerrard held up a star shaped leaf.

'You dropped this.'

'Oh.' Hannah sighed in relief.

'Are you sure you are feeling ok?' Gerrard asked 'You look like you just saw Yawgmoth.'

'Fine.' Hannah smiled, still a little shakey.

Hannah opened the lid and looked inside.

The box held a round, flat stone that had a thin leather strap running through a small hole near the top of it.

Staring at it long enough, one might think that you had every possibility of falling into it and continue to fall forever. Centered on the top and bottom, left and right were single runes. Hannah could only guess to their meanings. She looked to Gerrard for an explanation.

'One of the many lost treasures of Dominaria.' Gerrard started 'Many battles have started over this very amulet, and even more finished. Lucky for you, I found it and thought of you.'

'No one just FINDS a lost treasure of a plain.' Hannah said, fighting back tears 'Do I even want to know?'

'Honestly.' Gerrard said 'it was just – LYING around.'

'Funny you mention lying.' Hannah chuckled. 'Now, what was the deal with you?'

'What ABOUT me?'

"Dementia'?'

'Now up at three fouty fo' Magnolia screet,' Gerrard started with the same loud, almost drunk sounding voice 'I seen's it through the winda' of the uh, uh of dat house. They was all dressed in white robes FUCKIN'N one nother', like a choo-choo train.'

He even threw in a few fake staggers.

Hannah put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.

'Vertigo?'

Gerrard put a hand on his forehead and wobbled a bit. Looking at his feet, he forced a belch. 'I could charge you with malingering.' Hannah reminded him, trying not to laugh.

Gerrard took a step closer to Hannah, putting an arm around her neck and pulling her into his chest.

'Wha-?'

He put another arm around her and put his second in command close. Was he laughing to himself?

'What's so funny?' Hannah asked over his shoulder. Good thing, less he might see her blushing.

'Happy Valentines day, Hannah.' Gerrard said 'Ask me about the other side affects I was faking.' Gerrard offered before she could respond.

Hannah could not think straight. The man of her dreams had finally put hands on her in a way that conveyed love.

'Um, vertigo, Dementia,' She began listing off 'Joint Swelling? No, sweating and-'

Gerrard had not let her go.

Hannah began to remember. She started to laugh.

Hannah pushed Gerrard back and held him by the shoulders. With a serious look on her face, she asked him:

'Any SEXUAL side affects?'

Gerrard looked pleased with himself. He lowered his head a little and moved his mouth next to Hannah's ear.

'Malinger WITH me, we'll find out.'

'CAPTAIN!" Hannah gasped with mock shock 'I'm on DUTY.'

'Doesn't the second in command deserve some R and R?'

'More like the second in Command thinks she deserves some Ge and Rrard,'

'Request approved.' Gerrard said, offering a salute.

'MANY thanks, captain.' Hannah returned the salute 'Lord knows I've wanted THIS for a while.'

Gerrard shut his cabin door, locking it in the process. Just before knocking a stack of pre-received letters, all filled with exposed pictures, into a nearby trashcan.

(Authors Note: Yes I DID.)

'Oh, thank gods.' Lord of the Pit said as he ran his clawed hand over the hard, smooth surface.

Things were going JUST as he planned.

'Just a little it more-'

Lord of the Pit had been grinding for about an hour now. Very soon, this would all be worth it.

Never before had he accomplished anything like this!

Never really thinking himself able to do this in his life, what a turn of events! Here he was, so close.

'I'm going to need a towel.' He came to notice, as his hands were sweaty again. 'Don't go anywhere.' Lord of the Pit said to the love of his life.

Lord of the Pit got up, which was unfortunate because he was VERY comfortable, and picked up a towel from a rack in the bathroom.

'Better.' he said to himself as he returned, getting back in.

He went back to work.

'10-9, full count on the Sox, bottom of the 8th.' Lord of the pit said to himself. Damn! It was always the same thing. He ALWAYS went back to baseball.

'Curse? Like- the curse of the Bam-' Lord of the Pit began to himself.

'No.' He caught himself saying out-loud 'There's no such thing.'

Clearing his mind, Lord of the Pit concentrated o his breathing. He was starting to get lightheaded.

'Almost,' he said 'just-a few-more-'

Lord of the Pit released his death grip so he could wipe his hands dry again, as well as his horned forehead. His toes started to itch.

'Forget it.' He said to himself 'This close, I'm finishing it.'

Something started to creak. He was close now, VERY close.

'Three,' He counted 'Two, ONE-'

A golden halo Formed around DBowie and Elethera.

Lord of the Pit stood up, released the mouse and threw his fists into the air.

'Woo-hoo!" He yelled 'Take THAT Silvermoon! Level 60! World of Warcraft fucking MASTER! I will crush ALL that oppose the Horde! FOR THE FORSAKEN, mother fucker!'

'Damn, calm down, dude.' Came the reply over his speakers.

'That man loves his warcraft.' Another voice said.

Lord of the Pit had forgotten that he was still on team speak, and that he still hid his mic on.

'Sorry guys,' he said sheepishly 'I got kind of excited.'

'THERE'S the understatement of the century.' One of his party members said.

It was true. For a Demon, Lord of the Pit had an unnatural attraction to his MMORPGs. There was a few that said it might have been unhealthy, he should 'get out' or 'do stuff', but he was the same 666 pounds of muscle, skin and bone that he was last year.

His phone began to ring.

Lord of the Pit hit his Hearthstone hot key.

'Lord of the Pit.' He said as he picked up the phone.

The voice on the other end sounded familiar.

'WHERE are you? What's the last thing you remember? THERE'S a surprise. Are you going to be ok, do you want me to come and get you? You're sure? Ok, be careful then. Bye.'

Lord of the Pit hung up. 'Angels,' he sighed, shaking his head.

Back in Orgrimmar, someone over the General chat wished everyone a happy valentines day.

'Already?' he asked himself.

An undead rogue ran past Lord of the Pits character and backtracked, macro-ing him a kiss.

Replying with '/flirt', Lord of the Pit got

'If rot were hot, I'd be a volcano.' Out of his character.

'What about HER?' came the reply. The character he was talking to pointed at Elethera, the pet Succubus. 'Isn't she with YOU?'

Smiling to himself, Lord of the Pit dismissed Elethera.

'Nope,' He replied 'Just out walking the dog.'

Droophom, DBowie's Felhunter appeared.

'Lol' was the reply 'Happy V day.'

'You too.' He responded before logging off.

Lord of the Pit looked at his phone as he stood up.

'Time to make some phone calls.'

He dialed a very familiar number and got a busy signal.

'The hell?' he demanded 'Guess I'll try again later.'

With that, Lord of the Pit replaced the phone and headed for the shower, tripping over, and breaking a foot stool along the way.

'Balls!' Nemetta said as he hung up the phone. 'STILL busy? What is she doing?'

Nemetta had been trying to make a call since noon. It was now 2:30 in the afternoon.

'Where else would she be?'

Shrugging, he headed for the front door.

'Happy holidays,' the wall to the right of the door whispered telepathically to him. 'Why don't you let me out of here and we'll celebrate?'

'Fuck off, ya whore.' Nemetta said to the wall 'That didn't work last year, it didn't work last MONTH, not YESTERDAY, OR 4 hours ago.'

'Stupid fucking dragon legends.' He thought to himself. 'Really, how does a 3 foot nothing tree folk end up pulling this duty?'

'There's something I want to pull on,' the wall whispered again.

Behind the wall was the Green Dragon Rith.

Not exactly known for being tactful in the sexuality department, every day was like living next to a porn set.

Minus the smells.

The dragon imprisoned in the wall was at it again. The entire tree was shaking.

'Hey!' Nemetta yelled as he banged on the wall with his fist 'shut the hell UP In there!'

'Mmm,' the voice came back 'wish someone would pound ME like that.'

'I hate my life.' Nemetta sighed as he exited the front door, heading for his mailbox.

Nemetta smiled to himself.

That cute tree folk across the field was out again, cultivating her front lawn. Nemetta sighed in despair. Chicks just don't dig short guys.

'You got to know how to TALK to them.' Lord of the Pit had said a few weeks ago. 'All a woman needs to hear is what she WANTS to hear, and, even if you ARE a 3 foot nothing elemental, they'll be all over you.'

Naturally, Nemetta had not believed his friends word of advice. Really, what did a demon know about picking up women?

But who knows? Maybe Lord of the Pit was right? What was it he had said?

'With the right words, even a demon could get an angel.'

Nemetta broke out of his thoughts and found himself standing in the shadow of an 8 foot tall tree.

Nope.

He looked up. 8 foot tall tree folk.

Nemetta blinked a few times, making sure who he thought was really in front of him, looking like she wanted to have a conversation.

'Say something, Quick!' he told himself.

'No!' the other side of his brain shot back 'You'll only screw it up! Just smile.'

'Er,' Nemetta started, not coming up with anything else.

'That's it,' The left side of his brain sad 'I'm out of here.'

The tree folk smiled. She looked- pleased.

'That's it?' She asked 'Come on, I know I'm not the BEST thing that has happened to Dominaria, but I', keen to my decent look,'

At least she was honest.

'At least try.' She urged.

Nemetta took a deep breath, trying to hide it.

'Coffee?' was all he asked.

'Excuse me?' she asked, looking confused.

'I'm sorry, I missed that.' The tree folk repeated.

'Um-' Nemetta tried again 'Do you drink? COFFEE, do you drink coffee?'

'Y-yes.' She answered, sounding like she was losing interest in the attempted conversation.

'Would you like to go out and get some?' Nemetta asked, trying his best to sound both cool and calm. 'Coffee I mean. Go out for some coffee.' He added, hoping she did not take 'get some' to mean anything obscure.

'I'd LOVE to.' She said, smiling.

'It's ok,' Nemetta started, sounding dejected 'I understand- buh?'

Again, she looked confused.

'What?'

A breeze moved across the field, blowing what was left of orange autumn leaves between Nemetta and- oh damn, what was her name?!

'Did someone put you up to this?' Nemetta asked 'A demon maybe, or an ANGEL?'

'Demon?' she asked, looking confused again 'Why would a demon come HERE?'

'It's a long story.' Nemetta said.

'I'll bet.' She replied 'Oh, by the way-'

The tree folk went over to her mailbox and pulled out several small piles of mail.

'I think these belong to you.' She said, handing Nemetta the mail 'I keep getting some of your mail everyday it seems. I normally just add it to your mailbox, but seeing you out today,'

Nemetta took his mail and went over the return addresses. Bills, Bills, Bills, Letter from a friend, another bill and the local paper. No cards.

Oh well. Nemetta smiled despite his loneliness.

'Holiday card?' she asked, referring to Nemettas' smiling.

'What? ME?!" Nemetta almost laughed 'Oh no, never.'

'I find that hard to believe.' She said sounding almost distant.

Nemetta almost questioned her response, but he decided against it, as he was not sure if he was awake or not.

'Say,' the tree folk said 'Do you mind of I use your phone? Mine's not connected yet and I need to make a phone call.'

'Phone?' Nemetta repeated, almost breaking a sweat.

Tsabo Tovac almost didn't hear the phone ringing over the commotion in the bar. She continued mixing two drinks with her metal spider legs as she picked up the receiver.

'Tsabos Bar,' she answered 'Happy Valentines Day, can I help you?'

Whoever was calling, it was VERY hard to feel them.

'You're looking for WHO?!' Tsabo shouted 'it was always hard to hear ANYTHING when the Phyrexian grunts were watching their sports.

'Hold on, I'll check!' she shouted her response. Tsabo put her hand over the receiver and looked at the bar top, where orders had yet to be filled.

'No can do!' she yelled into the phone 'The kitchen is too busy! No WAY can he take a phone call now!'

Another muted response.

'Right!' Tsabo said absently as she hung up the phone.

Tsabo smiled to herself. Another typical day in her fine establishment. Still- she felt like she was missing something.

Nemetta had pointed out the phone in the den.

'Good thing I cleaned the house.' Nemetta sighed to himself. Still, there were still a few embarrassing aspects of his life that remained in plain view.

A 2,500 year old tree folk, still young by their standards, living alone with an extensive collection of Anime DVDs that called 4 shelves home next to his entertainment system, The many model aircraft he had in display cases that occupied MUCH oh his time; was he just being self conscious? Did it really look that pathetic to his guest, or was he just making something bigger than it really was?

The saporling wanting constant attention did not help to reinforce his confidence either.

'Sorry about him,' Nemetta said 'I'll get rid of him.' He readied an unsummon sell.

She looked down at the saporling and smiled at it.

'No need.' She said as she pointed at the floor with her right hand. She snapped a finger and green mana flowed out of her palm and congealed on the floor, forming a small ball next to the saporling.

POP.

'Nee.' A new saporling chirped.

It took a second for Nemetta to form words.

'Are you a-a GROVE Guardian? My RELIF?'

'NO,' she laughed 'Grove WATCHER. Sylvanis Grove Watcher.'

'Well missus Grove Watcher,' Nemetta smiled.

'MISS.' She corrected 'And it's Sylvanis.'

'SYLVANIS,' Nemetta tried again 'I'd introduce myself, but you keep getting my mail, so I suppose formal introductions are out.'

'I think we CAN assume that moment has passed.' Sylvanis said as she dialed the phone.

'Can I offer you anything?' Nemetta asked 'Water, fertilizer, natural sunlight?'

'I'm fine.' She smiled as she waved a hand at him.

Nemetta decided it better that Ms. Grove Watcher had her privacy. He left the den and made for the kitchen, passing the front door as he went.

'I feel a great disturbance in the tree.' Nemetta heard all around him. 'Like there were two tools in the same box.'

'Oh no,' Nemetta said to himself 'Not this, not now.'

He heard it again.

'Now I feel-' a moment of silence 'Myself.'

Nemetta forgot about what he was doing and headed for the same wall that tormented him day in and day out.

'No,' he started, close to the wall and holding a finger up to it 'Listen to me, NOT now. DON'T do this to me today. I'm NOT in the mood for this.'

'You know what I'M in the mood for?' the wall asked him.

'Yes, now knock it OFF!'

'Nemetta?' Sylvanis called from the other room 'Is everything ok? Would you like me to leave for a few minutes?'

'I'm fine!' He called back 'I'll be right in!'

Glaring at the wall again, he heard:

'Huh, who was THAT? I THOUGHT it didn't feel like you were alone. Feels warm and sticky to me- wait a second-'

Nemetta hit his head against the wall.

'Why me?' He demanded.

'There!' The disembodied voice said 'Now it feels like you are not alone. Guess I got kind of carried away there.'

Nemetta hit his fist against the wall, causing a nearby picture to jump, threatening to fall.

'NOT NOW.' He repeated 'DON'T do this to me. This is FAR too important.'

'Who is she?' the dragon behind the wall taunted.

'A friend,' Nemetta shot back. 'Now leave me alone.'

'I can help if you want.' She offered 'Drop a few mental images on her, or some ideas.'

'NO.' Nemetta said 'If you DO, I don't know HOW, but I'll make your life a living hell.'

''Sylvanis'.' The voice said 'Very pretty name. I bet she's VERY good looking too.'

'Get- OUT- of my HEAD.' Nemetta growled, still staring at the wall.

'Am I interrupting something?' Sylvanis asked, standing in the doorway looking somewhat frightened.

'Oh,' Nemetta smiled 'Nothing. Ready to go?'

'I think so.' She answered.

Nemetta twitched at a mental image the dragon was sending him.

'Are you sure you are ok?' Sylvanis asked 'You look shaken.'

'I'm fine, really.' Nemetta said trying not to let on to the mental barrage Rith was now sending him.

'Well then, I'm going to- wow.'

Everything that was being forced into Nemettas' brain was gone. Stopped completely. Looking around quickly, Nemetta saw that Sylvanis looked suddenly stressed.

'Oops.' Rith said to him 'Wrong person. But you know-'

'No,' Nemetta said quietly 'Don't do this.'

'She's kind of interesting. Let's dig deeper.'

'Um, I think we should go.' Nemetta offered.

Sylvanis' eyes looked glazed over. She failed to hear him.

'Sylvanis,' Nemetta said as he touched her 'we should go I think.'

She snapped out of whatever she was in and looked down at Nemetta.

'Oh, sorry about that. How long was I out? I mean- what happened? Things went- black.'

She was trying to hide it.

Nemetta opened the front door and offered Sylvanis out.

'I'll be right out.' Nemetta said 'I need to take care of something real fast.'

Rith hit Sylvanis with everything she had before she got out of range.

The phone was ringing again.

'It never ends.' Tsabo said to herself.

It was now peak bar time, 2 for 1 special and the phone was at it AGAIN.

Tsabo picked up the phone as she collected money.

'Tsabos' bar, happy Valentines Day. What can I do for you?'

It was still loud in the bar.

'WHO?' Tsabo asked 'Hold on, I'll check.'

Tsabo pointed to her bar help, a plague lord, and said

'I'll be right back.'

Dodging patrons, Tsabo made it to a door that read 'Employees only. Kitchen.'

Entering the kitchen, Tsabo immediately felt the heat of the grill, broiler, stove and pizza oven, all working at full blast for still hungry paying customers.

'Nick!' she yelled 'NICK!'

A grunt stuck his head out of a walk-in cooler.

'Yeah?' he called.

'Got a second? Phone call.'

Sure.' He said as he placed a fresh slab of steak on a cutting board. Taking off a blood stained apron, he hung it on a hood and headed for the bar.

'No more personal calls at work!' Tsabo called after him.

'Did I see you moving your television?' Sylvanis asked when Nemetta returned outside.

'Just a few feet.' Nemetta admitted.

'Oh, ok.' She replied, sounding a little confused.

'I wanted to tape the ball game.' Nemetta explained 'I had to move the television so I could run a power line to my old VCR.'

'Ever heard of Tivo?'

'I don't watch wrestling.' Nemetta smiled.

'No-o-o-o!' Rith cried to no one 'Anything but THIS! I'll behave, I PROMISE!'

Facing the wall, 10 feet away, volume turned all the way up; Red Sox/ Cubs game.

'I can't do ANYTHING to baseball! My only weakness!'

Commodore Guff switched out records.

It was nice of Urza to repair his vintage vinyl turntable. It worked again flawlessly.

No one had been in all day to check out books, or to research anything. Not even to question his twisted views on the world.

And how the kids loved to do THAT!

Guff dug deep into the pockets of his green robe and pulled out a box of matches.

Striking the match, he lit the tobacco that was in his Blackthorn wood pipe.

How Mr. Leaver had LAUGHED when he stopped in to deliver the pipe that Guff had requests.

'What a damn fool,' Guff reasoned 'He had NOTHING to laugh about. He was not even dressed for the holiday!'

The record skipped. And kept skipping.

'Damn!' Guff cursed, rushing to inspect it. Sure enough, there was a large gash in the vinyl. 'Can't a man listen to his Bagpipes in PEACE?' Guff demanded out of no one.

Switching out the record with a copy of 'Scotland the Brave', he went back to his desk.

'Better now than never,' Guff reasoned, pulling a mug out of his robe pocket and sitting it on the desk.

He opened a nondescript bottle and emptied its contents into the glass.

'And now to enjoy a fine Black and Tan.' He said to himself.

Raising the glass, he smiled.

'Happy St. Patrick's day, Guff old boy.' He said to himself. 'Drink, drink more and be merry.'

'The man is INSANE.' Bo Leaver said to his first mate 'He pays good money for a good pipe, only to celebrate the WRONG holiday with it!'

'At least he paid in full for it.' The first mate argued. 'Besides, he SEEMED like a nice guy.'

'He IS,' Bo replied 'Don't get me wrong. He IS a great guy, just a little crazy.'

Bo was captaining his ship across realms again. Pirating had its lows and highs, and today was a new high for Bo.

Pirating made more than enough money to pay the bills, SO much more in fact, that Bo had had finally hired a crew. Thins ran smoother and operations went over faster.

'What's in the hold today, Captain Leaver?' the cabin boy asked. He had his ledger out again.

Bo always believed in passing the pirating trade off to the next generation. Just as his father done with him.

'Remember son,' Papa Leaver had always said 'NEVER lose track of that you ship, OR how much it's worth. And jumping Gix on a pogo stick son, ALWAYS, ALWAYS remember to hide the ledger after you take inventory.'

'818 crates of the finest chocolates available ONLY through the joy of pirating, boy.' Bo Laughed.

'Worth?'

'A LOT.' Bo said seriously.

The cabin boy scratched 'a lot' onto the pad. It was a legitimate figure to Bo.

'Good job, boy.' Bo said, patting the cabin boy on the back 'Now go hide that book. It's got enough in it to get us all in irons until the next Ice Age.'

The cabin boy ran off to secure the book.

'Lieutenant Harrigan!' Bo called.

Behind Bo, the door to the map cabin opened. LT Harrigan stepped out.

'Yes captain?' he asked.

'Tap a keg of our finest Phyrexian Grog.' He commanded 'We celebrate.'

'Right away sir!' The LT called, turning back to the hatch.

'What a wonderful job this is.' Bo mused to himself 'A Wonderful job indeed.'

'Tsabos' Bar, happy Valentines Day. Can I help you?' Things had quieted down a little. The post game wrap up was on, making way for another game. 'Yes,' Tsabo said 'Open until 1, food until 12:30.'

She hung up.

Today felt- empty. Sure, she had pulled in a lot of money, but it felt like she was missing something.

'Watermelon Soju.' A Grunt said.

Tsabo went right to work adding watermelon flavoring to an unregulated alcohol. Collecting the money, Tsabo moved down the bar to another grunt with a 10 in his claws.

'Two Sam Adams and a Jack Sour.'

Tsabo began mixing, and she saw more claws go up holding money.

The phone started ringing again.

'Phil,' Tsabo said 'finish these; I have to grab the phone.'

The Plague lord moved down the bar and began filling orders.

Tsabos' Bar, happy Valentines Day. What can I do for you?'

'You got the game on tonight?'

'All night.' Tsabo answered 'Open until 1, food until 12:30.'

'Um, I'm wondering if my friends there.' The caller went on.

'I've been getting that all night.' Tsabo sighed 'Employee or patron?'

'DEFINATLY a patron.'

'Name?' Tsabo asked, thinking she should get back to work.

More Grunts made their way in. It got loud again.

'Hold on,' Tsabo said 'I'll check.'

Tsabo put her hand over the receiver.

'Mr. Poupor!' She called 'Phone call for a Mr. Poupor!' It was hard to hear anything. 'HEY!' Tsabo yelled 'Shut the hell UP! Phone call for a Mr. Poupor! Everyone, Mustaf Herod Apyor Poupor! Let's go!'

The bar went quiet.

'Well?!' Tsabo demanded.

'Fetish night already?' one of the grunts towards the back answered.

This was, naturally, met with peals of laughter.

Tsabo only stood froze, face askew for a second.

'Mustaf- Herod- Apyor-' she said quietly to herself.

On the other end of the phone, laughter.

THERE it was. Tasbos' day felt complete.

'You son of a bitch,' She started 'If I EVER find out who this is, I'll have one of my grunts remove our testicles through your ASS and use them as cue balls!'

She slammed the phone down on the receiver, amid jeering and raucous laughter.

'I fucking HATE the phone.' She said.

Nemetta sat back down at the little table both he and Sylvanis were sharing. He was still content with his evil-doings, smiling because of it.

'What's THAT all about?' Sylvanis asked over a latte.

'Setting the day right.' Nemetta said 'now I feel complete.'

'Thank god for payphones at Starbush coffee houses.' Nemetta said to himself.

Serra started down the street.

This place was – different. The lights, the sounds, the SMELLS.

Serra could smell everything being cooked on the little carts from a bucket of fried chicken to some kind of meat on a stick.

Serra took a deep breath and looked around. She was walking among humans. It was a chore to hide her wings, but she had managed to do so after buying herself a heavy leather jacket that had a white, soft fur lining inside it, which she bought for surprisingly cheap.

Serra did not know what had willed her to go HERE tonight, so decided it best not to start drunk.

Serra walked on, avoiding many people that were staggering around, or some that looked to be in a hurry to head east up the street.

Serra turned her head and looked up the street. There was a large white gate topped with razor wire, and a line of people forming outside a small building.

Serra shrugged.

Looking forward, Serra saw the red sign she was looking for.

'Dragon Club'

Serra opened the door and saw the stairs leading up.

'THESE will be a bitch later.' She said as she began to ascend.

At the top of the stairs was another door. Again, a small black and red sign reading 'Dragon Club'. Under it, a smaller sign that read 'Must be 21 to drink.'

Serra looked at her watch.

9:01

'Just in time.' She said to herself.

The bar was not too crowded in the 'no room to walk' sense, but there were people in the limited amount of space. All in all, it smelled like smoke and was loud as hell.

Serra took a seat at the bar next to an empty seat that had only a camouflage patterned Boston Red Sox hat on it, and a half empty beer on the bar. Something about the hat seemed familiar.

The overly loud speakers kicked up a song that started with bagpipes.

Serra sighed and put a 10 on the bar.

'Drink!' she called.

'Drink?' An older looking Asian woman asked 'What do you want?'

'I don't care,' Serra sighed 'Anything strong.'

The 10 vanished with the woman.

The music was on about someone being a barroom hero. This caught Serras' ear.

Serra looked around, trying to figure out why she was in that particular bar. Serra returned her attention to the bar and now saw a teapot and shot glass in front of her.

'The HELL?!' She demanded.

'Kettle.' The woman said.

''A WHAT?' Serra asked, still skeptical.

'Soju, soda, ginseng.' The woman answered.

'Oh.' Serra said with a shrug. She poured herself a shot of the deadly mixture into the shot glass. It glowed neon green under the black lights.

Serra went through a few shots and decided it was not too bad of a drink. She looked around again, still not having the slightest clue as to why she was there.

'I think I need to go to a different bar.' She said to herself.

Her conscience told her to stay.

Serra finished off the kettle at an unhealthy speed and called for a beer.

'What kind?' The woman asked before pointing to a large case with a glass door and many different brands and names of beer.

'Something local.' Serra replied.

'A what?' the woman asked.

'Local,' Serra said again 'Something- Local.'

'Why are you talking so slowly?' Someone next to her asked 'She understands ME just fine.' He ordered a beer 'Maybe you should just LISTEN slower.'

'Fuck you.' Serra said.

The song continued, and Serra now had a bottle of OB in front of her.

Still, she felt like she was being watched.

Serra finished off her beer by the time the next verse came around and called for another. 'OB' tasted horrible, but it was pretty damn strong.

Calling for a chaser, she got a shot of Jack with her beer.

Another verse and Serra had finished her beer and just drained her shot.

'One more!' Serra called, oddly enough, already starting to feel tipsy.

The song ended, and Serra was tapped on the shoulder. She turned around and was confused by what she saw.

Two tall men in camouflage stood behind her. Bother wore berets and were clearly armed with pistols.

Serra could her Magna sword under her coat.

'ID please.' One of them said. Serra had no idea which one said it, as she could not see straight.

'What?' she slurred.

'ID card,' The cute one repeated. 'I need to see it please.'

'Ok, ok.' Serra mumbled.

Digging into her pocket, she came out with her Serran Realm ID card. She smiled as she handed it over to the cop.

'What the hell?' he said as he looked it over.

'That's right,' Serra reasoned 'Humans. Never seen a Serran realm ID before, OR the language of the Divine' it was written in.

'Let me help,' Serra offered as she took another pull from her beer.

Not wanting to frighten the humans or raise unnecessary suspicion, she blew on the face of the card, adding the slightest white magic to her spell. The characters disappeared and reappeared in English.

Handing it back to the cop, Serra offered:

'There was dust on it.'

Where there were what looked like squiggly lines and boxes to the two cops before was now actual letters and numbers.

'Um, Ms. Angel?' One of them asked.

'Yup?' Serra asked, draining her beer and signaling for another.

'Is there a BIRTHDATE on this thing?'

Serra pointed to the back, lower corner where a few small numbers were printed.

'Thanks a lot.' The taller cop said 'Have a nice night.'

They left and Serra shrugged, replacing her ID.

Serra was half way through her beer when she was interrupted again.

'Serra?' From her right.

She spun in the chair to see who was addressing her.

Whoever he was, he was close to 5'7" standing, had to weight next to nothing, wore glasses and was now wearing a memorable Red Sox hat.

'Do I know you?' She slurred, thinking she SHOULD know him.

'How many drinks have you had?' He asked.

Though he was defiantly NOT the best thing to happen to- where was she?- he was still somewhat cute. Serra let him live, as no one demanded anything from Serra.

Sera listed the not impressive list of what she had conquered so far that night.

'Lay off the soju.' He warned. 'It's bad stuff.'

Another patron walked up to the familiar and almost knocked him over.

'Buddy!' he yelled, clearly intoxicated 'I thought you LEFT me.'

He was taller than the guy she was sitting next to. He also wore glasses. Oddly enough, he was wearing a shirt that read 'T3H 4DM1R4L'

'Well who's theys?' He asked with a drunken southern accent.

'Admiral, Serra. Serra, The Admiral.'

Serra nodded her greetings as she finished her beer.

'You certainly are cyute.' The 'Admiral' Went on 'Wonna grab some dinner?'

'DON'T,' his friend said 'You won't like how it ends.'

'Ah git outta here anyway, I'm thrashed.'

'Hold on, I'll get you a ride.'

'You're such a good fer-rend.' The 'Admiral' nearly collapsed.

Someone came by on their way out and led 'The Admiral' down the stairs.

Gods, Serra hated dealing with drunks.

'Can I buy you a drink?' the familiar asked.

'I can't turn down free alcohol.' Serra admitted 'I'll have-'

'Two beers and a double of Jack!' he called.

'Holy damn,' Serra said to herself 'he really might know me.'

The drink arrived at the bar and he slid a 20 over the counter, getting strange looking bills back. He stuffed them into his wallet.

'So Serra, he asked 'what ARE you doing here?'

'Where IS here?' she countered.

Getting the little bits of information that she needed from her friend, Serra dug into her pocket and found her thin white Razor phone.

'I need to make a call.' She slurred. Dialing a few numbers, she got just who she was hoping for.

'You'll NEVER guess where I am.' She said 'KOREEA. I have NO idea how I got here.' A moment of silence as she was, no doubt, questioned 'Last thing I remember? Drinking.' More silence 'no, I'll be fine. I'll leave tomorrow morning. Yes, I'm SURE I'll be alright. Good bye.' She hung up, replacing the phone.

'Demons,' she sighed, shaking her head.

'Another shot?' her friend asked.

'You know it!' she called 'I got my drinking shoes on.'

'Two shots Cuervo!' he called

'Jose' the name flashed in her mind.

'I know who you are,' she laughed 'I'm supposed to be your guardian angel.'

'You ARE.' Jose said 'You're SUPPOSED to be my SOBER guardian angel.'

'No one's perfect.' She shrugged.

'Right,' he replied 'only tonight, I'm making sure YOU get home safe.'

'And now, that part you all wanted.

You don't even need to ASK. I know what you all want, you sick fucks.

-Jose'

Cheesecake! I have not done this in a LONG time, so I warn you, it's going to suck. If you might take any kind of offense to this type thing, skip the next part and jump right into Barrin and Urza at home.

This was intended to be salty. We'll see.

Mirri exhaled slowly.

She was exhausted, but nowhere NEAR done. She had been accused before of being a junkie for this particular drug. She considered it a drug. She could see how that theory held water. Her being addicted.

Mirri looked over the room at what she had accomplished.

Half a case of KY empty, the spent tubes piled up in a corner. Near those, nearly anything she could manage to fit, not suitable for ANYTHING again, outside of incineration or a probably illegal auction on e-bay.

She was still a LITTLE sore from her last attempt, a Louisville Slugger.

Not too far away form that, a good portion of the carpet was RUINED.

'I'll have to replace that.' Mirri said to herself 'Or at least try and get the smell out.'

Mirri was almost sure all her muscles were sore.

Not hard to believe, considering some of the things she had been doing and some of the things she had been playing with.

Mirri allowed her head to thump back onto the floor. Not a long trip, as she was still on her back.

Her tail twitched, practically peeling its sticky self off the floor.

Mirri turned her head to the side to get a better look at it.

She moved it again. There was a sticky coating all over it.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Mirri reached out a pawed hand and touched the mystery coating. It was warm and sticky. No surprise there.

Mirri rubbed it between her thumb and forefinger for a second.

She brought her hand close to her face and sighed in relief.

Just her.

She was worried that it would have been something raunchy.

There was that feeling again, like she was south of the Mason Dixon line in June: Very warm and VERY humid.

She maneuvered a little so she was sitting on her legs, knees on the floor. She was most comfortable here anyway.

Normally.

Standing up, she felt like she was wearing only a water soaked sponge.

Having shred what little clothing she started with, now wearing a slashed tunic (slashed out of self enjoyment) and a wet sponge- thin, revealing cotton underwear.

'Holy shit.' She sighed to herself in amazement.

Humidity had nothing on her at this point.

Her inner thighs were sticky-wet, as well as her lower abdomen.

If one was to look up 'cum-soaked mess' in whatever dictionary it existed in, the definition would simply read:

'See Mirri'

Stretching her feline body, something in her shoulder popped.

Mirri froze for a second, hoping noting would hurt within the second.

Nothing but a pop.

Whatever it had been, it felt good.

Mirri went about popping any other joint that would, feeling better afterwards.

She hadn't felt this good in close to two weeks.

Two weeks ago, Mirri had somehow managed to tie HERSELF up in a way that she could have been a stunt double for Pulp Fictions The Gimp.

THAT, she had enjoyed.

Sure, it would have been a lot MORE fun with company, but looking back on it, it was not really her cup of tea.

Her right knee jerked out of her control, somewhat stinging.

That had happened to her once before, again, when she was 'marathoning'.

Apparently, her body was tired.

'That's a shame.' She said to herself, considering that her sex drive was not tired at all.

Mirri was the type of girl that every guy wanted: the one you can't take home to dinner with the family, less you start boning on the table during dessert.

And gods knew THAT happened once.

Mirri was no 'Slut of Dominaria', nor was she 'easy', she was just comparable to a rabbit on Viagra.

She had to clear her mind. Taking a deep breath did not help too much. She could smell herself all over the room.

A little put off that she had temporarily wrecker her fur, she decided to go with 'what doesn't kill you makes you last longer.'

It was a well known and widely accepted fact that it did not take much to get Mirri going. She could watch Shindlers List and find a reason to enjoy herself.

Oddly enough, what set her off this time was the smell of herself still thick in the room.

Mirri found herself on the back again. It was almost an automatic response to mental stimulation. Just the idea even, in some cases, any time, any place, anywhere.

Shoulders on the floor, she turned her head to the side as her back arched.

If it were anything else, one might think her in pain. Knees up and a foot or two apart from each other, back arched, rapid/ frantic breathing.

She went to work on her already soaked self.

Mirri really didn't care for this particular day in February. She just spent all week playing things out in her mind. She had wanted the same thing for longer than she could remember.

It just never happened.

'If only he would- - show up.' She groaned to herself. Her body shook a little. That's all she wanted. She'd treat him right. It would be PERFECT. He'd never want to leave. He'd want to stay around- FOREVER.

Her body shook again. Almost.

Mirri flipper herself over.

Good thing she had made sure she had complete privacy. Not like LAST time. That had been a complete accident. Only later, when she found out that someone had seen her did she get off on the idea.

She didn't mail photos out for nothing. As illegal as it might have been, even if he never replied, she'd be sure SOMEONE would enjoy them. Another object of her desire maybe. Either way, she was going to be sending more pictures out.

Destroying very little of what was left of her clothing, Mirri now had the side of her FACE on the floor, elevating the lower half of herself on her knees, her hand between her soaked legs working away.

This is how it always played out.

Only it wouldn't be her inside herself. It would be-

Her tail twitched again. Almost, wait it out.

That's all she wanted out of life. For him to completely RAIL her once. Once. She'd be happy.

Mirri was pretty sure she was making some kind of noise. She could almost hear her own rapid, shallow breathing.

This was ALWAYS how it went; only he would be in her, just like this.

She'd open the door one morning-

Her eyes rolled back into her skull.

And he'd be standing in the doorway-

Her breathing was short and high pitched, almost like she was choking to death. Her body shook harder. This was it.

There would DEFINATLY be a few pictures going out today.

He'd be standing in the doorway like he belonged there.

Her body tightened around itself.

Gerrard.

SPLASH!

'Hells bells.' Urza said 'I hope that didn't break.'

Urza had just finished his morning pot of coffee and was washing the components to the coffee maker artifact; 'Senor Coffee'.

However he had managed to do it, Urza had dropped his favorite mug into the sink.

Fishing the mug out of the soapy water, Urza inspected the ceramic.

Sure enough, there was a small chip on the rim.

'Crap.' Urza said simply 'That was my favorite mug, too.'

Barrin, Urzas' Housemate, had opted to go out and pick up the mail.

Urza had asked that Barrin pick up his as well, as he still wanted to work on a few of the new artifacts.

Already displaying one this morning to his friend and colleague, it played out much as it did any invention exchange.

Barrin came into the kitchen and saw IT on the table before Urza saw him.

There were two large SOMETHINGS under a large white sheet.

'Good morning Urza.' Barrin said.

'I'm glad you are here to see this!' Urza cheered as he turned around.

'Where else would I be?'

Urza walked Barrin over to the table and gripped a corner of the sheet.

'Gentle-men!' Urza shouted to Barrin, gesturing with one had to the sheet.

'You know,' Barrin interrupted 'I AM the only one here. You can call me Barrin.'

'Behold!' Urza tore the sheet away, revealing two uncomfortable looking metal boxes with two straps apiece on them. 'The portable TWO- WAY- COMMUNICATOR!' Urza laughed deviously.

'What in gods name is THAT thing?' Barrin demanded.

'It's a – a portable two way communicator. You just strap it on your back-' Urza put on Barrin and he leaned forward at a tremendous angle because of the weight 'And GO!'

'It weighs a fucking TON.' Barrin struggled.

'But, as long as we are within 500 yards of each other with a clear line of sight IT- WILL- WORK!'

Barrin looked both shocked and frightened.

Urza shoved a walking stick and a pair of boots at his friend and yelled:

'Now, let's go TRY-THEM-OUT!' Urza laughed manically as he put his own on.

'Oh! Ow, wait!' Urza fell over from the weight, the box exploded.

Barrin came back enough time later to have had a flashback.

He was loaded down with mail and small boxes.

'Urza,' Barrin said 'Help me with these, will you?' There's stuff here for our students too.'

'Why don't we use the mail sorter artifact?' Urza offered. He pointed to an oil drum shaped container. It hummed, was leaking green vapors and glowed green.

'THAT'S a mail sorter?' Barrin demanded 'I don't know if that's entirely safe.'

'Sure it's a mail sorter,' Urza said 'A nuclear powered mail sorter.' He added quietly.

'I think some of these might have some food in them. Let's just do this by hand.' Barrin insisted.

It did not take too long before Urza came across a letter for Barrin. And a box as well.

'Catch.' Urza said as he tossed it at his friend.

Taking a minute from sorting, Barrin opened the card.

'What a sweet daughter I have.' Barrin said getting a little misty 'She really loves her old man. Let's see what she sent.'

Urza went about the boring task of mail sorting while Barrin opened his gift.

'Stupid genetic clone of a son-' Urza grumbled 'DATING the guys daughter and he can't even send me a card.'

Barrin opened the box and pulled something out that was square shaped.

'What do you have there?' Urza asked.

Barrin tore off the paper it was wrapped in.

He held up a wall clock.

'It's a cuckoo clock from Urborg.' Barrin said smiling 'I've wanted one for a while now. She's such a nice girl.'

Urza muttered something about an ungrateful clone of a son.

'Urza,' Barrin said as he tossed an envelope to him 'card. It was in the box- Oh! Chocolates!'

The face of the envelope read 'Deranged Mad Scientist'. Under that, in quotes, 'Dad'.

'This is unlike Gerrard.' Urza said 'I wonder what he sent me?'

Urza opened the paper and pulled out a picture that was clearly meant for him.

The picture was of Gerrard, looking none too happy, flipping off the camera.

Urza read the back of the picture.

'See you in hell, you arrogant asshole.'

Barrin opened his questionably legal chocolates and offered one to Urza.

He took one.

'Next time,' Urza said to Barrin 'Remind me to build a Self Destruct mechanism into whatever I'm building.'

'Sure. Whatever.' Barrin said through a bite of a wonderful cream filled chocolate.

Urza took a bite of the chocolate he selected.

'Gross.' He said quietly 'Stranglethorn Coconut.'

'I need your ID.' Jose said as he led Serra into a small building.

'Why?' she demanded, clearly drunk.

'So I can get you a visitors pass.' They arrived at the first counter 'How ya doing?' Jose asked to the on duty cop.

'Sup'?' came the reply.

A little hand help computer beeped when Jose's card was scanned.

Moving to a second counter, Jose again attempted to coax Serra out of her card.

'Serra, I need your ID.'

'What you NEED ' she slurred 'is to shut the hell UP.'

'Serra, you're drunk. If I can't get you on base, you'll have to sleep in the alley. And trust me; you DON'T want to do that.'

'Fuck an ID.' Serra growled as she reached into her large, wing-concealing jacket 'Let me get out my sword. I got an ID for them.'

Jose applied a firm grip to Serras' forearm and refused to let go.

'Problem?' the cop behind the desk asked.

'I found you, didn't I-?' Serra attempted.

Jose elbowed her in the ribs.

'Oof!' she finished.

'What?' the cop demanded, now standing up.

'Nothing!' Jose said 'We're ok here.' Jose handed both IDs over. 'I need a temp pass.'

During the painfully long process of pass writing, Serra almost fell over 13 times, threatened to vomit twice, almost took off her jacket 6 times and threatened 3 of the Korean Air Police.

'Thanks.' Jose said as he took the small piece of paper.

About to leave the last door, someone called his name.

'Jose!'

Jose turned around to see one of his normal drinking buddies working.

'Holy CRAP man, WHAT bar did you buy HER from?'

'I didn't buy her from a bar,' Jose sighed.

'Right.' Jose's friend said, sounding skeptical 'so who's your girlfriend?'

'She's not my girlfriend either.' Jose grumbled 'She's my- a friend.'

'You want to introduce me to her?'

'No.' Jose said flatly.

Serra swayed again as she stared out a large window.

'We have to go. I need to get her to bed.'

'Yeah Jose! GET you some.'

Jose held up The Bird as he headed out the door for the taxis.

'Fuck you.'

'Be sure you tell HER that!'

Yawgmoth pounded down the stairs, clearly not happy with the poor timing.

Before he reached his front door, he cast a simple spell on himself.

He instantly grew 8 feet taller.

As always, his faithful assistant, Bob, was right behind him.

Yawgmoth opened the door.

'Who dares summon me?' He bellowed, forcing a deep voice.

'Calm down, dude.' A familiar voice said 'you called ME.'

'What is your business here, Plainswalker?' Yawgmoth demanded.

'Delivery for Yawgmoth Q. T. Evilguy.' Bo Leaver said.

'You address Yawgmoth the Great.' He said.

'According to this paper, its Yawgmoth Quentin THE Evilguy. Sign please.' Bo held up a sheaf of paper.

Yawgmoth took it and patted at his cloak.

'You wouldn't have a PEN, would you?' He boomed.

'Not on me.' Bo said, clearly not intimidated by Yawgmoth.

'Just a second then.' Yawgmoth said as he turned his back.

He reached into the infinite void that was under his cloak and conjured a brand new pencil.

'Bob!' he said quietly, dropping the deep voice 'Bob, sharpen this for me.'

Bob took the pencil and, sticking the end in his mouth, chewed a few times.

Pulling it out, the tip was sharp. He handed it back to his Lord and master.

'Now, Plainswalker,' Yawgmoth said, again with a deepened voice 'Oh, just one more thing.' Yawgmoth turned around to face Bob. 'Thank you.' He whispered.

Bob waved him off.

'Now, Plainswalker, where do you need me to sign?'

Bo pointed to a line at the bottom of the paper.

Yawgmoth quickly scribbled his name.

'Now how are you paying for this?' Bo asked.

'The most EVIL way I can, naturally.' Yawgmoth laughed 'Checks.'

Bo shook his head.

'Sorry guy, cash or credit.'

'What?' Yawgmoth demanded 'You must be joking!'

Bo looked up at Yawgmoth and had a look of indifference on his face.

'Do I LOOK like I'm joking?'

Yawgmoth grumbled something and reached back into his robes, looking for another type of currency.

'How much do I owe you again?' he asked.

'Sign here please.' Bo said as he pointed at another line on the paper.

Yawgmoth scribbled his name again.

'Here, here and here too.' Bo said again, indicating three more lines.

Yawgmoth fumbled the pencil, still searching for cash.

Bo now flipped the form over, where the final line was.

'That SHOULD do it.' Bo said as Yawgmoth finished signing his name.

Yawgmoth retracted his hand from his cloak.

'Do you accept large wads of bills?' he asked.

Bo's eyes glazed over and his smile broadened.

'I think I just wet myself.' Bo laughed as he collected the money.

'What do you mean it's GONE?!' Yawgmoth demanded, staring at an empty pedestal. 'Nevrynells Disk is supposed to be RIGHT HERE.'

Bob sighed again and shook his head.

'Sir,' He began 'Remember last week when ComBlast came to inspect the cable lines?'

'Yes, who is it?' Yawgmoth asked as he opened the door.

A very, VERY familiar looking man was standing at his door. A Large black golem stood next to him. Both wore ComBlast jumpsuits.

'Can I help you?' Yawgmoth asked.

'How ya doing today sir?' the human asked.

'Do I know you?' Yawgmoth asked 'You look- familiar.'

The man in the jumpsuit was about 6' 3" and had dark hair. But the goatee looked familiar.

'Oh, I get that a lot.' He said 'Anyway, my name is-'He paused 'Bernard. This is my assistant BARN. We're with ComBlast and here to inspect your cable today.'

'Sure,' Yawgmoth said 'Come on in.'

Bernard and Barn stepped in, closing the door behind them.

'We're going to have to run a quick diagnostic first.' The Golem said.

'Brilliant idea.' The human agreed 'Artifact.' He held out his hand to his assistant. Opening a small compartment in his chest, Barn pulled out a small gray box. It looked like it had little power nodes on it, and a few different colored lights.

Bernard waved it around in front of himself with one hand.

One of the lights blinked red.

'Indeed,' Bernard said with a sigh 'Just as I though.'

'Trouble?' Yawgmoth asked.

'Well,' Bernard started 'If I am reading this right, and I always do, there IS a problem with your water lines.'

'Cable.' Barn corrected.

'Cable,' Bernard shook his head 'right, cable.'

'Where do we start?' Yawgmoth asked, sounding concerned.

'This is telling me, The Hall of Irrational Treasures.'

'The- HALL?' Yawgmoth repeated.

'Gasp of HORROR, man!' The golem proclaimed 'That's where we installed the Hub! Quickly, to the hall!'

'My Lord,' Bob began.

'Can it wait?' Yawgmoth asked 'We have a hub that needs to be replaced.

'Master,' Bob said quietly 'Do you REALLY believe that ComBlast is here to repair a non-existent hub in the hall?'

'Nonsense, Bob.' Yawgmoth scolded him 'They have the jumpsuits.'

'My Lord, that's Gerrard Chasphen!'

'What?' Yawgmoth said, sounding incredulous 'Look, his NAMETAG says 'Bernard'.'

'My Lord-' Bob attempted, sounding annoyed.

'Watch.' Yawgmoth held up a finger to Bernard. 'Excuse me, Gerrard? Gerrard Chasphen?' He tapped on the ComBlast employees' shoulder. He looked at Yawgmoth and smiled like any good ComBlast employee would have ''Excuse me, are you Gerrard Chasphen?'

The man laughed and pointed at his nametape.

'No sir, Bernard.'

Yawgmoth turned back to bob.

'Told ya.'

'OK sir,' Bernard said as he stood in the center of the relic filled hall. 'This is what we're going to have to do, these tiles on the floor, thank god they come up. Our cable line and hub are under the floor. Now, because of the security system in this room, for our safety, we're going to need you to cut the power until we are done in here.'

Yawgmoth immediately became suspicious.

'May I look at the new hub you will be installing please?'

'Barn?' Gerrard asked.

The golem reached into a small compartment that was in his chest and pulled out a small gray box.

It had power nodes on it and a few unlit lights.

Yawgmoth just nodded, not too familiar with technology.

'My Lord,' Bob tried again, sounding urgent.

The ComBlast human glared at Bob, unseen.

'Enough with the negativity!' Yawgmoth shouted 'Bob! Go do something USEFUL! Make me a sandwich!'

'My Lord?' Bob questioned, sounding hurt.

'Why are you still here?! I can take CARE of this! I'm not the lord of the fucking WASTE because I'm an IDIOT! Ham and swill on rye!'

Bob hissed at Bernard on the way out.

'It's SO hard to find decent help.' Yawgmoth said 'I apologize for that.'

'Oh, I understand.' Bernard laughed 'That's why I work with GOLEMS now.'

'Anything I can do to help?' Yawgmoth asked

'Actually,' Bard said 'Would you mind tripping the breaker for us?'

Again, Yawgmoth felt a little suspicious.

'You know,' he started 'I don't know if I feel completely comfortable leaving the two of you in here alone with my relics. No offense.'

'Understandable sir,' Bernard said 'however, Barn and I only have one light apiece, and with BOTH of us in the floor, there will be little to no light in the room. Even though we are on your turf, one wrong step and you fall into our workspace, ComBlast gets sued and Barn and I are out of a job.'

'Hmm.' Yawgmoth pondered the thought 'I know, I'll wait OUTSIDE and make sure no one goes in or out.'

'Brilliant idea sir.' Barn said.

'We've got our lights, so whenever you are ready, go ahead and put us in the dark.'

Yawgmoth vacated the room, closing the heavy door behind him.

'I CANNOT believe that this is working.' Karn said.

'Well,' Gerrard began 'he IS kind of an idiot.'

Karn began pulling up the large square tiles o the floor, revealing a crawlspace that spanned the underside of the room. The whole false floor hid about two feet of space, cables and pipes ran in various directions, many tot eh underside of the relic cases.

''How do we do this?' Karn asked.

'We're going to hang around in the floor for about an hour, have lunch, disable the secondary line of security, find Hannah a gift, close it all up and leave.'

'Don't you think this is a little bit extreme just to get a gift?'

'Karn,' Gerrard sighed with a smile 'I'm not sure if you golems have a full understanding grasp of love, but once you are IN love, you find yourself doing many things in the name OF love. Many of them CRAZY. So, yes, while this IS a big risk, I'm sure it will be worth it. Now, are you with me on this one?'

'I follow only your orders, Captain.' Karn said.

'Then let's get to work.' Gerrard smiled.

Yawgmoth was Knee deep In the Dead when he heard something crash to the floor. Whatever it was, it had sounded like glass.

Yawgmoth stood up and opened the door to the Hall Of Irrational Treasures. Just figuring it was easier to get a chair and put it outside the door; he was close enough to make a quick assessment should anything go wrong.

Opening the door, Yawgmoth stuck his head in the dark room.

'What's going on in here?' he demanded.

'My apologies sir,' Bernard said from the dark 'Barn here dropped one of the windows we are replacing. Not to worry though, we won't charge you for it and we'll have it cleaned up right away.'

'Right,' Yawgmoth yawned 'Just be careful.'

'Yes sir.' Bernard said as Yawgmoth closed the door.

Yawgmoth sat back down and fell back asleep before he knew it.

'You really think this will work?' Karn asked lantern shedding light over their handi-work.

Gerrard had found what he claimed to be the perfect gift for Hannah. What looked like a thin, brown disk was actually an amulet that consumed all. Niverynels' Disk.

'He'll NEVER know the difference.' Gerrard chuckled.

Gerrard had replaced the disk with an English Muffin.

After replacing the tiles, Gerrard knocked on the door.

Yawgmoth opened it and looked confused.

'Done already?' he asked 'That was only-' he glanced at his watch 'Two hours!? Did I fall asleep? It seemed like 10 minutes!'

'It's not a problem sir,' Bernard said 'We didn't even have to leave the hall.'

'I'm more worried about what this will cost me.' Yawgmoth grumbled 'Did you get the job done?'

'Like you wouldn't believe.' Bernard smiled.

'Your cable is fixed.' Bern added.

'How much do I owe you?' Yawgmoth asked, sounding concerned.

'Seventy seven even.' Gerrard said, not wanting to press his luck. 'Cash or check please.'

'Oh,' Yawgmoth said 'Let me get my checkbook.' He walked off down the hall toward the stairs.

'There goes a stupid, stupid man.' Kern said quietly.

Gerrard stifled a laugh.

Yawgmoth returned with a check and handed it to the two ComBlast employees.

'Have a nice day sir,' Bernard said as he left 'Thank you for doing business with ComBlast, and we hope to see you again.'

'Have a nice day!' Yawgmoth called as he shut the door. 'Ok,' he said to himself 'Movie time!'

Outside, Gerrard laughed loudly as he showed Karn the check.

'Look! Look at this! Yawgmoth Q.T Evilguy; Yawgmoth Quentin THE Evilguy!'

Yawgmoth sat on the couch and flipped the TV on.

Public Access.

'Ew.' Se said before changing the channel.

More network TV.

He kept going.

Network TV, Network TV, network TV.

A few more and he was back to the first station.

'Hmm…' he said to himself.

'Now that you MENTION it-' Yawgmoth ran to his TV and turned it on. Flipping through channels, he counted 25 different stations.

'Bob!' Yawgmoth yelled 'Bob!'

Bob walked into the room.

'Yes Lord?' He asked.

'What's wrong with the cable?'

'Like I was trying to TELL you, my Lord, We don't HAVE cable.'

'Uh-oh.'

Jose unlocked his door and practically fell into his dorm room. He was halfway I when he realized that he did not have Serra with him.

'Shit.' He cursed, having to go back down the hall and open the fire door for her.

'Pretty small fucking place you have to live in.' she complained within the 15 foot long section of hallway that was between two fire doors.

Jose took her by the forearm and led her a few doors down.

'This way.' He said.

Jose stepped in front of the door and opened it, ushering Serra in.

'Where the hell are we?' Serra demanded.

'Welcome to the dorms.' Jose said 'It's not much to look at, but it's warm.'

Jose was right about the 'not much to look at' part. Immediately in the door on the right was a sink and mirror. To the left of that, a wooden door that led god knows where. Across form the sink, two wall lockers stood next to each other. On the door of one of the lockers, a blue and green robe hung.

Inside the second doorway was the actual living quarters.

To the immediate right of the door at 'I just smashed my fucking kneecap' level was a night stand. It was littered with unopened mail, a deactivated cell phone, loose change and a few assorted pictures. Against the wall next to the stand was a bed.

The bed was a single, or a somewhat crowded double, and put together with a black comforter that had dragons embroidered on it. It was pulled back enough to reveal red sheets and a red mattress cover, as well as two pillows that were of the same red. At the foot of the bed, a full sized fridge stood that was covered with magnets. The wall directly opposite the door housed a desk that held what looked like a new PC, minus a faceplate. Various game cases and their CDs were strewn across the desk.

Opposite the bed was a TV cabinet. On the cabinet was a decent sized TV, Serra guesses 32", and a 360 standing next to it. On a small shelf below the TV, a classic X-Box made its home. Above the television was a shelf that held various hats, gas mask filters, books and Xbox games.

Tot eh left of the cabinet, a dresser that had blankets folded up and stacked on top, hiding a broken lamp.

'What the hell is that music?' Serra asked, looking around the room for the soundtrack.

'Sorry, that's the computer. I'll cut it off.'

'Wait,' Serra said, trying to fight through the drunken haze that had settled over her brain 'Is that the new Tool album?'

'Sure is.' Jose smiled.

'Bah, leave it for now. Where can I get a shower at?'

Jose Led Serra back to the mystery door. It led to a shared bathroom.

'Let me get that jacket for you, Serra.' Jose said.

'Ever the gentleman.' Serra said to herself. She did not notice until now how warm it was in the room. She was already sweating.

'Great. Thanks.' She said, almost falling over.

She took off her jacket and handed it to Jose. Her wings unfolded and knocked most of the clean bowls off of the sink where they were drying.

'Balls.' Jose sighed 'Oh well.' He shrugged before picking them up.

Jose looked up. Serra was already trying to get her dress off.

'Whoa, BAD idea.' Jose said. Leading Serra back into the bathroom, she shut the door.

'Hooks are on the door you just shut.' Jose said as he leaned against the door. The room was spinning.

'I'm- hic- gonna need closh.' Serra slurred.

'Jose sighed, weaved his way to the dresser and came back empty handed.

'Serra,' Jose said as he knocked on the door.

Serra stuck her head out of the door, bare shoulders just visible.

'What pants size?'

Serra tried to brush the hair out of her face, only to have it fall back out of place. 'Thatsh kinda personal.'

'Serra, you're as big as I am. Help me out- here.'

She whispered something to Jose, exposing a little more of her shoulders. Jose had to fight himself to not look. He sneered.

'Serra,' Jose said 'You're TINY.'

'Still a little- hic- personal.' She replied, almost falling out from behind the door.

'Whatever.' Jose shrugged. 'I'll get you some clothes. Wait a second.'

Jose went back to the dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans and a random t-shirt.

'And no jeans.' Serra called. 'I can't - hic- sleep in –hic- jeansh.'

Jose grumbled something and replaced the jeans.

'Hell.' Jose said to himself 'It's not summer yet.' Jose swayed on his feet. 'No shorts yet.' Jose thought for a minute 'Then again, there is that ONE pair.' It was a long shot, but Jose opened the top drawer and pulled out the only pair of shorts he had in inventory.

Collecting the clothes, Jose knocked on the door and handed them to Serra. The water was running and a cloud of steam billowed out.

Having time to kill, Jose went for his computer.

Jose was in a conversation when he heard Serra saying something.

'Hooba Jooba WHAT?' Jose called back.

'I said, what is up with these shorts? I feel like I'm wearing that one kind of underwear-'

'Boy shorts.' Jose called.

'Yeah-hic-'

'Sweet.' Jose said, almost drooling on himself from whatever he was envisioning.

'What's with these? What did you give me to-hic- wear?' Serra demanded.

The bathroom door opened and shut, however Serra did not make herself visible on account of the small dividing wall.

'Welcome to the world of- Air Force PT shorts.' Jose said, going back to his AIM conversation. 'The same ones I gotta wear.'

'I have to shay,' Serra said, still hiding. 'They are very- restricting.'

'You have NO idea.' Jose agreed.

'Jose, I feel like I'm modeling for Victoria's Sechret or something.'

'I can always get you- jeans.' Jose offered.

'-hic- ok, ok,' Serra said 'Just don't stare at me.'

Serra came out form behind the small wall, clearly self conscious. Indeed, she was wearing embarrassingly short Air Force PT shorts. Her still damp hair fell to her shoulders, dampening the shoulders of an Evil Dead T-shirt that pictured a laughing Ash on the front, splotched with blood.

'Nice t-shirt.' Jose said, not able to keep a straight face.

'Wings for Marie' was playing. It seemed to fit.

Jose went back to his conversation.

Serra walked over and put her ands on Jose's shoulders for support. Holding herself up, she said nothing for a few minutes.

'Who are you talking to?' she finally asked.

'Hollywood.' Jose smiled.

'That your GIRLFREIND?' Serra drunkenly teased.

'No,' Jose said 'I barely know her.'

'Don't get loud with me.' Serra slurred 'You know how dangerous it is to talk to strangers?'

'Oh, I bet I'm JUST as strange.' Jose laughed.

'Does she know you're drunk?' Serra demanded.

'More than likely.' Jose scoffed.

Another window popped up.

'Now who's THAT?' Serra asked.

'You know who that is.' Jose said 'It's the only girl I constantly fuck with because I can't communicate that I'm into her.'

Serra glared at the screen for a second, and then bounced her open palm off the side of Jose's head.

'Ow! Fuck me in the mouth! What was that for?' Jose demanded.

'Being a dick to someone that cares about you.' She said 'I'm going to bed.'

'She lives with her boyfriend!' Jose attempted to defend his level of being pathetic.

'I SHOULD hit you with a roll of quarters then.' Serra said.

Jose finished up his conversations.

'Hey,' Serra called 'Is this silk or something?'

Jose turned around and saw Serra pointing at the bed.

Sheets, pillow cases and comforter.' Jose responded.

'Sweet.' Serra mumbled before falling onto the bed face first.

Jose got up and flipped the lights off. The only light in the room was the small amount of light that came from the streetlamps.

Stretching, Jose sat on the end of the bed and began taking his socks off.

'Um,' Serra began 'WHAT do you think you're doing?' She slurred, pulling a blanket off her head.

Jose looked over his shoulder and pointed at the bed with one hand.

'This is my bed. I sleep here.' Jose replied 'What do you THINK I'm doing?'

'How about NOT sleeping with your guardian angel?' Serra offered, using her foot to shove Jose off the bed.

'So- WHERE do you propose I sleep again?' Jose asked form the floor.

'Welcome to the- hic- floor big guy.'

'Great, just great.' Jose said, the room spinning again 'Where did I put my sleeping bag?'

'Oh, God! What time is it?' Hannah sat up in a bunk that was not hers. She checked her timepiece.

0926

Hannah put a hand to her forehead in shock. THAT was not supposed to happen.

The crew was not going o be happy. No, not happy with her at all.

Were they even still in the air?

And where was Gerrard?

Hannah hastily put her clothes on and made sure she looked at least somewhat presentable.

Making her way quickly to the bridge, Hannah hoped to avoid the rest of the crew until she was at her post.

Reaching the deck, Hannah was surprised to find the crew hard at work at their post. Even Gerrard.

'Good morning Admiral!' Gerrard called form the helm. 'I trust you slept well?'

'Yes sir.' She answered 'my apologies for being late-'

Gerrard laughed.

'Not to worry.' He said 'The only reason we are all working is because I offered a trade.'

'A trade, captain?' Hannah asked.

'If I get one morning of honest, no BS work, I reward the crew with a day off.'

Hannah looked around deck. Everyone was indeed working at top performance.

'Admiral,' Gerrard said 'May I have a word with you in command for a moment please?'

'A day off?' Hannah asked as Gerrard took a seat behind a cluttered command desk. 'You certainly are in a good mood.'

'You seem to have that profound affect on me.' Gerrard said with a slight smirk.

'A day off-' Hannah marveled 'You need to get laid more often.'

Gerrard exploded with laughter.

'That's EXACTALLY what Orim said!' he proclaimed.

Hannah laughed as well.

Jose turned around and looked at the clock. It was now 0759

Still sore from sleeping on the floor, Jose did not sleep well. He had now been awake and playing World Of Warcraft for almost an hour.

At least he had slept off the alcohol.

'Any second now.' Jose said to himself.

The alarm clock went off.

Jose watched as Serra stuck an arm out from under layers of sheets and blanket, made a fist and smashed the clock. It stopped beeping. For good.

Serra moved around under the blankets in an attempt to get comfortable again.

Suddenly, she stopped.

'What the hell?' Jose heard.

She sat up, holding the sheet across her chest with one hand, using the other to support herself upright.

She looked none too happy, and quite haggard, but somehow still beautiful.

'What did you do to me?' She demanded.

'What?' Jose asked, sounding preoccupied.

'I'm looking at what I'm wearing, and who's in the room- rather, what I'm NOT wearing.'

'Yeah?' Did Jose sound annoyed or amused?

'Care to explain this BEFORE I try to kill you?'

'First,' Jose said, holding up a free hand 'It's NOT underwear. They are my PT shorts.'

'Bull shit.' Serra said, sounding very unhappy.

'Look at them.' Jose said 'Air Force Colors, and logo. PT shorts.'

'But they are so-' Serra started, but could not find the word.

'Gay.' Jose finished.

'Ok,' Serra said 'and THIS?'

Jose turned around to look at Serra. Seeing nothing wrong, he cocked an eyebrow at her.

'I'm not wearing a shirt. Just my underwear.'

'It was hot.' Jose said, not breaking eye contact.

'What kind of answer is THAT?' Serra asked.

'The same answer I got last night when I was hit in the face by a renegade Evil Dead t-shirt at 2AM.'

'Well,' Serra said, maybe to herself 'At least I have underwear on. Quit looking at me!' she yelled at Jose. 'I have to put something on!'

'Oh no,' Jose said in mock dread 'I've never seen a woman in a bra before! WHAT am I going to do?'

'Not one THIS beautiful.' Serra said, trying to show Jose up.

'OR this delusional.' Jose said as he went back to his Warcraft.

A shot glass impacted on the wall next to the monitor.

Jose whipped his head around to face Serra again. She had another shot glass.

'That was a warning shot.' She growled.

'Happy fucking Valentines day.' Jose sighed to himself.

End

Apologies: If you have gotten this far and think you might have been represented in this fic without prior notification, thank you for being that characteristic in person, or over the net. Sorry I did not drop any kind of warning, but I thought it would be fun.

Bitches, gripes and Complaints. Got any? That's why there's a 'Review' button right there. OR be REALLY different and leave some love.


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